


When Secrets Get Dragged Out

by monthadog (mysteriousMonarch)



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: M/M, Wow this is a silly story, cross dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2598335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriousMonarch/pseuds/monthadog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new local band is really gaining popularity and it seems that the lead singer has a crush on Pickles the Drummer!  Where has Toki been disappearing to during the week?  He hasn't joined another side band has he...</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Secrets Get Dragged Out

Toki could hear the noisy audience as he nervously waited back stage with his band mates. The lighting may have been dim but when the light reflected off of a nearby guitar he could tell that the person holding it definitely wasn’t Skwisgaar. This guy was skinny and pale with spiky black hair and several piercings adorning his face. Startled by this stranger, the Norwegian took a step back and nearly collided with the bass player. Whipping his head around he found, not Murderface, but another raven haired guy whose eyes were done up in elaborate black make up. 

“Let’s go! We’re on!” called a guy holding a pair of drumsticks and wearing several chains on his black pants. Toki was still confused as he reached the lone guitar leaning against the wall closest to him. Before he was able to touch the instrument, yet another unknown man picked it up and placed the strap over his body.

“Quit messing around, we’ve got to get on stage!” the guitarist demanded. This guy had bright red hair that was gelled in several directions. It was only as Toki cooperatively began following the men onto the stage that he noticed his legs felt unusually bare. The bewildered brunette chanced a glance downward and discovered that he was wearing a short red and black plaid skirt with knee high black lace up combat boots. In the process of looking down at his legs he also couldn’t help but notice his slightly padded chest which gave off the appearance of breasts. 

“What’s the fucks?” he murmured as he reached his hands up to touch the long pigtails his hair had been styled into.

“Usagi! Get your ass on stage!” the bass player addressed him with a rough nudge from behind.

“Wha-?” before he could ask any questions he found himself being pushed onto the stage and automatically walking towards the microphone positioned front and center. The next thing Toki knew the drummer behind him was counting off on his drum sticks and then the band began playing. As if instinctually, right on cue the Scandinavian suddenly knew the words to the song and began to sing. What really took Toki by surprise was making. The words he sung not only came out of the microphone loud enough to be heard over the music, but they came out several pitches higher than his normal voce. He truly sounded like a female as he sang the lyrics to this familiar yet unknown song.

Once the song ended and the band launched into the next one, Toki noticed that the audience was loving their performance. A great sense of happiness spread throughout his body at the realization that these people were praising him instead of ridiculing him. As the vocalist he didn’t have to compete with another person for solos or be told that his guitar playing was dildos. It was just him, the microphone, and the lyrics that poured from his lips like a steady waterfall. The spot light was all on him, even if everyone seemed to think he was a lady.

Toki awoke the next morning in his own bed wearing his usual pajama bottoms and hugging his deddy bear close to his body.

“Wowee, whats a dream!” he whispered to the stuffed animal groggily. Eventually he summoned the energy to get out of bed and pad his way through the halls of Mordhaus to the kitchen for breakfast. Jean Pierre placed a bowl of brightly colored cereal in front of him once he took his usual seat.

“Good morning everyones,” he greeted with as much enthusiasm as he could muster after just having woken up. Murderface and Nathan grunt in response while Skwisgaar simply yawns.

“’Morning ‘dere, Toki,” Pickles responds before placing another bite of omelet in his mouth. Pickles has always been the nicest to the youngest member of the band. The red head always seemed to put forth an effort to take Toki’s side when it came to activities the young Norwegian wanted to participate in such as secret Santa for Christmas or the time the brunette suggested that they all play Rock Band. Pickles also made sure to compliment Toki on his guitar skills when he was feeling especially dejected due to Skwisgaar’s sometimes harsh comments.

“’Morning Pickle!” Toki cheerily replied, feeling a surge of butterflies at being spoken to by his band mate. Toki would never speak of it to anyone besides his deddy bear, but lately his feelings towards the Irish American man two seats away from him have been taking on a new meaning. After much deliberation the brunette decided to call it a crush.

The crinkling sound of a newspaper overpowered all other noises at the table for a moment as Nathan folded up the daily paper and set it on the table next to his plate of half eaten toast. 

“So uh, I had a few ideas for those two songs we’ve been working on,” the front man’s deep voice ground out. “Skwisgaar, Pickles, if you wanna meet me in the studio whenever you’re done here,” he suggested. Said two members nodded in confirmation as Nathan stood from the table to take his leave. “Murderface and Toki,” he added as an afterthought, “just go do whatever the fuck it is that you do.” With that he trudged off towards the studio.

“Yeah! Well fuck you guysch!” Murderface bellowed. “Who needs you dicksch anywaysch? I’m gonna go to my room and just fuckin’ jack off,” the lisping man raged before storming out of the room.

“’Dere is seriously something wrong with that guy,” Pickles stated flatly, earning a giggle from the Norwegian down the table. The drummer cast a curious glance in his direction but shrugged before pushing his chair out from under the table to make his leave.

“Ja, I ams surprised that his you-know-whats hasn’t fallens off by nows or somethin’s. All that jacking off he does,” Skwisgaar agreed and made to follow his shorter band mate out of the room.

“See ya later, Toki,” Pickles called over his shoulder much to the young man’s delight. As he had eaten his cereal he had thought about his curious dream from the night before. It seemed so realistic. Toki couldn’t shake how amazing he felt singing onstage with that band. Was it really him singing, though? The voice coming from the microphone had been a woman’s voice, although it did bear some resemblance to his own. Suddenly a thought occurred to him and he quickly made his leave from the table.

Toki wandered the hallways of Mordhaus until he eventually found himself in the laboratory that was used to experiment on the latest sound technology to aid with Dethklok’s brutal sound on the stage and in the studio. This was where their scientists developed liquid recording.

“Lord Toki! What a surprise!” the taller of the two lead scientists greets him. “You’ve come alone, have you?” he questions. 

“Ja, I just hads a questions to ask of yous,” Toki answers honestly. By now the shorter more plump scientist has noticed the band member’s presence and wanders over to stand beside his counterpart.

“Lord Toki! What a surprise! You’ve come alone-,” he begins asking but is interrupted by his taller partner. 

“No, see, I’ve already asked that. Just now, before you came over,” the tall one explains.

“Oh you have?” the pudgy one asks.

“Indeed.”

“Ah, well what brings you here to our lovely facility, then?” the portly man gestures around at his surroundings.

“He’s already explained that too,” the taller man informs him delicately.

“Oh, dear. Well what haven’t I missed then?” the plump man frets. Toki shifted his weight from one foot to the other impatiently. It was always maddening trying to discuss anything with these two. 

“I just wanted to know if it ams possible to have a microphone whats changes your voice. Like makes a man sounds like a lady,” the young guitarist cut in eagerly. The two scientists exchanged intrigued expressions for a moment.

“Of course, Lord Toki!” the pudgy man exclaimed in delight.

“Rap musicians use technology to alter their voices all the time!” the skinnier man explained.

“All the time!” the other scientist agreed. The shorter man motioned for one of his assistants. “Fetch me the Voice Warp Microphone, my good fellow,” he requested. The assistant scurried off to retrieve the specified object.

“We have created a microphone that can alter the pitch and such of one’s voice,” the tall man informed Toki. The assistant returned with the microphone and handed it off to the tall scientist. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

Nearly an hour later, Toki was making his way back to his room, Voice Warp Microphone in hand. The scientists’ tutorial on how to use the device took twice as long as it needed to due to their inability to stay focused on one thing while speaking. The Scandinavian shut the door to his bedroom behind him and studied the microphone in his hands. Pressing a few buttons along the side and twisting a few small knobs he nervously held the microphone near his lips.

“This ams crazys,” Toki quietly spoke into the mic and heard a much more feminine sounding voice resonate from within. He studied himself in his full length mirror hanging on the inside of his closet door. “I could actualies do this,” he whispered in awe. It wasn’t until later that night while surfing the Internet that he stumbled upon an ad on some local band’s Facebook page stating they were a Goth/electronic group searching for a female lead vocalist. Toki’s breath was caught in his throat as he sent a response to the ad stating that he was the female vocalist they needed.

“Now alls I need is a disguise,” he breathed.

 

A soft knock came from Toki’s bedroom door interrupting the trance he was in as he studied the lyrics of a song. Startled, he fumbled with the notebook in his lap quickly closing it and putting it in the drawer next to his bed. 

“Comes in,” the brunette called once the contraband was hidden. His door was opened a crack and Pickles cautiously peered inside.

“Hey Toki,” the red head greeted and allowed the rest of his body to enter the room once he saw that the guitarist was simply lounging on his bed. The drummer also noticed that it appeared as though Toki had been doing nothing but lounging on his bed. There was no reading material nearby, no music player, not even a bottle of lotion. Why was the younger male simply sitting on his bed doing nothing? “Whatcha up to?” he asked, trying not to seem too suspicious.

“I was just sittings here thinkings about stuff,” Toki sighed. “Sometimes I likes to just sits here in da quiets and thinks.”

“Ah,” Pickles commented, thinking that Toki’s explanation seemed perfectly logical.

“What’s up, Pickle?” the guitarist asked suddenly feeling fluttery about having Pickles alone in his room. 

“I just wanted to ask ya where ya’ve been lately,” the drummer shrugged. His speech seemed to be a bit slurred and it was entirely possible that Pickles wasn’t entirely sober at the moment; he hardly ever was. “I don’t see ya around s often anymore.”

“Oh, well,” Toki felt himself blushing slightly as he attempted to come up with a good excuse to tell the older man. Was it possible that Pickles missed him? “I mades some new friends.” It wasn’t entirely a lie; he had been hanging out with a new group of people in his side band. Pickles wore a serious expression on his face.

“Should I meet these new friends? No offense, Toki but you only try to see the best in people and because of that you’ve made friends with some real whack-jobs,” the intoxicated man responded. Typical Pickles, always trying to protect the naïve Norwegian from all the bad people in the world.

“No you don’ts need to meets them. They’re good I promise!” Toki assured him. “Thanks for always trying to look outs for me, Pickle,” he added quietly.

“No problem!” the drummer grinned. “You’re real special, Toki. Don’t let Skwisgaar get you down too bad about anything. You’ve just got this, I dunno, unique thing that’s just Toki,” he began rambling. Toki giggled at Pickles lace of eloquence. 

“How much haves you drunk tonight?” the brunette laughed.

“Enough,” the other man replied with a laugh of his own.

“You’s so nice,” Toki responded somewhat flirtatiously.

“Aw it’s nothin’, you deserve it,” Pickles waved his hand.

“Because I’m special?” Toki giggled again.

“Yeah!” the older man whole-heartedly agreed. “Well I guess I’ll leave ya alone for tonight,” he sighed and rose to his feet. “See ya around hopefully.”

“I’ll try,” Toki answered. “And Pickle?” the guitarist called once the older man’s hand was on the doorknob.

“Yeah?” he turned back to respond.

“I don’t thinks you belongs in a garbage can,” Toki smiled warmly. Pickles grinned broadly.

“Thanks,” he said before pulling the door open and taking his leave.

 

Ofdenson briskly entered the dining room, taking a mental head count of the boys before slamming his hands down at the head of the table effectively interrupting the band’s dinner.

“Oh here we goes withs the robots craps again,” Skwisgaar muttered loud enough for his band mates to hear.

“Toki is unaccounted for right now,” the CFO informed the men at the table.

“Yeah, scho?” Murderface interjected. “That guysch alwaysch off doing schomething elsche when we’re all doing schtuff! Lazy!”

“Actually, guys,” Pickles spoke up, “that’s mostly because no one bothers to tell him what’s goin’ on half the time. It really makes him feel like shit when he’s left out like that.”

“What’s all this talk about feelings?” Nathan asked in disgust.

“Ja, that ams prettys gay,” Skwisgaar adds.

“Guys!” Charles barks. “This is a serious issue. Toki has been going off several days a week with little to no explanation for almost two months now. I’ve been informed that right before all this stared he was asking about a rather unusual subject. I have reason to believe that wherever he is and whatever he is doing; he’s up to no good,” he explains with a hint of concern. Pickles suddenly became very worried as well. He hoped Toki wasn’t hurt or hanging out with bad people again.

“What do you know?” the drummer asked, attempting to not let his emotions bleed through.

“After searching his room the only shred of evidence we could find that would be relevant was a small slip of paper that had the words “Haunted Dream” on it as well as the name of a local venue, today’s date, and a time,” the CFO stated. The table remained silent for a moment to absorb the information.

“Wait, so you can search our rooms?” Nathan asked in revulsion.

“That’sch just wrong! That’sch an invasion of our privacy!” Murderface preached.

“This is why he ams a robot! We haven’ts gots no privacys!” Skwisgaar shouted. Pickles watched the reactions around the table and couldn’t believe they were still stuck on the part where Ofdenson had revealed Toki’s room had been searched. He was more concerned with what was found in that search. The scrap of paper that was found; it almost sounded like-

“Toki might’ve joined another side band,” Pickles stated out loud. The other three musicians paused their bickering to look at the drummer with shocked expressions. 

“That’s precisely what I was thinking,” Charles affirmed. “We need to go to the place that was written on that paper to find out exactly what Toki is up to. The time that was written down said seven o’clock. If we leave now we’ll get there just after seven,” the businessman strategized.

“Ugggghhh, I guess so,” Nathan heaved a heavy sigh.

 

The venue was incredibly small compared to where Dethklok normally performed. Ofdenson had brought along a few klokateers in disguise to position themselves in various places around the building to ensure the band’s protection. The men remained close to the back, relying heavily on the darkness to conceal their presence. Of course if there was alcohol, the members of Dethklok will partake. Nathan, Murderface, Skwisgaar, and Pickles each held an alcoholic beverage in their hand as they milled around watching the stage being set up for the next act. Nathan had attempted to pressure Ofdenson into getting sloppy with them but the CFO adamantly refused.

“We are strictly here on business, not to have a good time,” Charles had admonished. Pickles felt a twinge of guilt for indulging in a drink but shrugged it off. He had a drinking problem, it was probably expected of him to e drinking while trying to rescue Toki. Suddenly the lights go off on the stage and everyone in the crowded room begins screaming and cheering.

“Looks at all dem dildos,” Skwisgaar shouts. Four men walk out onto the stage and take their places with the drums, bass, guitar, and keyboard. The banner displayed behind the drummer tells the crowd that the name of the band is Haunted Dream. Once the guys were in their places a young woman walked onto the stage clutching a microphone in one hand. At first glance the guys of Dethklok were surprised to see how attractive this female singer was. She wore her long brown hair in high pigtails and her eyes were made up with black makeup. Her white button up shirt fit her loosely and a black tie hung under the collar of the shirt. Her black and red plaid skirt was short and pleated and she wore black stockings on her legs and black combat boots on her feet.

The voice that the young woman sang with sounded light and pretty and Pickles actually found himself liking the way the band sounded. Charles nudged one of the teenage girls that was standing the closest to them. “What can you tell me about this band?” he asked loudly in order to be heard over the loud music. The teenager turned towards the man in the suit and eyed the Dethklok members curiously, but didn’t recognize them.

“Haunted Dream is, like, the best local band around here! They are so amazing! I go to every one of their shows!” the girl shouted excitedly. “They haven’t been around very long but they are so great!”

“What do you know about the singer?” he asked casually. Pickles was standing the closest to Ofdenson and the girl and was straining to hear the conversation while still watching the singer on stage as she jumped around energetically.

“Her name is Usagi,” the teenager told him. “She doesn’t really speak during performances very much outside of singing. I heard it’s because she’s from another country and has a really thick accent that’s hard to understand. I’ve heard her talk a few times before though,” the girl announced proudly.

“You have?” Ofdenson asked intrigued. The teenager nodded.

“She always dedicates songs to this guy named Pickles. I heard that’s the drummer in that band Dethklok. It’s so romantic!” the girl gushed.

“She does?” Pickles jumped into the conversation. The teenager gave him a bit of an odd look.

“Yeah, every show she always dedicates at least one song to him,” she confirmed. The red head felt himself blush slightly as Charles eyed him apprehensively.

“Thank you for your time,” the businessman stated formally. The girl shrugged and went back to watching the band on stage perform. After the band had played three songs the singer addressed the audience for the first time.

“Thank yous for comings to see us tonight. We are Haunted Dream. I just wants to say that you all really means a lot to me. I would literally dies for each and every ones of you,” the vocalist spoke carefully into the microphone and appeared to nearly get choked up momentarily. She lowered her gaze to the floor of the stage to collect herself. “This next song is for Pickle,” she nearly whispered and the band erupted into a melancholy song in which the lyrics told a tale of unrequited love.

“Hey, that chick kinda talks like Toki,” Nathan grumbled to the guys around him.

“Holy shits, guys. I thinks that ams Toki,” Skwisgaar proclaimed horrified.

“What the fuck?” Murderface asked, too stunned to really say anything else.

“Hey Pickles,” Nathan called to the shorter man to get his attention. “Pickles! Toki’s dressed up like a chick on stage and singing songs about you!” the raven haired man reiterated the current situation. “That’s pretty messed.” Pickles was beyond shocked. He ignored his band mate’s jeers for the moment and just focused in on the disguised Norwegian on the stage. It was true he did make a pretty lady, but Pickles realized that he had been attracted to Toki just as himself. There was always something about the younger guitarist that sparked something within himself. Toki was talented, funny, caring, naïve, and adorable. Most of all, Toki was genuine. There was some magical property about the blue eyed man that just made the drummer’s heart melt.

It was in that moment, when Pickles processed all of these thoughts and feelings that he impulsively knew what he wanted to do. The short red head ignored Ofenson’s warnings, blocked out his band mate’s teasing, and made his way towards the stage. Faintly he caught some surprised responses when people recognized who he was but he was determined in his purpose. 

When Pickles finally reached the front of the stage he hoisted himself up onto it and stalked over to the performing singer. The drummer caught Toki by his arm and spun him around quickly, crushing their lips together in a searing kiss. The brunette’s eyes widened in shock at first until he realized who it was and then finally relaxed into the kiss. The audience went crazy with cheers. When Pickles finally broke the kiss he leaned towards the Norwegian’s ear and whispered, “I know it’s you, Toki.” The guitarist in disguise turned a violent shade of red.

“I really likes you a lots,” Toki admitted shyly.

“That’s okay ‘cause I really like you a lot too,” Pickles smiled. Toki flashed a brilliant smile back at the drummer before lifting the microphone back up to his lips.

“Wowee! How was that’s for fan service?” he exclaimed in his disguised voice. The audience cheered and squealed in delight once again. Meanwhile, at the back of the room Ofdenson breathed a heavy sigh as the other three members of Dethklok remained frozen in a stunned silence. Charles turned to Nathan after rubbing his fingers in circles over his temples. 

“On second thought, I think I would like to get sloppy with you boys tonight,” the CFO stated exasperatedly. Nathan silently nodded and handed him a shot glass filled with something strong.

“That isch just too gay for words,” Murderface murmured.

“Ams I the only one gettings turned on bys this?” Skiwisgaar asked in bemusement. Ofdenson, hearing this, gestured to Nathan.

“Just keep ‘em coming,” he requested in a defeated tone. He went ahead and loosened his tie; this was going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Toki's band is heavily inspired by The Birthday Massacre. I know that there is an obvious hole in the logic of Toki's disguise but I won't say anything about it if you won't!


End file.
